Black Curtains
by Shade105
Summary: The death note, the worse weapon that has ever fallen into the hands of man kind. New war is upon Earth, and Destany will be once more put in the line.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Well here is the first part of Black Curtains, an idea i was working with my brother. Just prety much a little preview of how it's going to be. Please do enjoy.**

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Black Curtains

Chapter one- It all began

_The clock ticked overhead. Near was amazed time even passed in this moment of pure horror._

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4:32 pm, Eastern Time, Washington D.C, United States. The room was awfully quiet, but honestly for Near, he did not mind the silence. Instead, the young man played on with his trinkets accessed over the years. Dolls, action figures, and a simple deck of playing cards laid around him, in the disorderly organization he preferred.

He picked up a card at his left flank, finding it to be an Ace of Spades. It still amazed Near, the way probability worked. The young man knell well enough it was just a pattern, and that sooner or later it would repeat itself as planned. It would be an indefinite time, and Near honestly did not have the attention span to wait for it. He dropped the card in front of himself; the boy had lost his concentration on it rather quickly, quicker then he expected. Next, Near glanced to his right, and fixed his eyes on a small boy doll figure. It laid lifeless, plain and emotionless, much like an image himself. In fact, if Near wouldn't hold the obligation to breathe, he would be a living image of it.

He reached out, and grabbed the figure with his thin, boney fingers.

It had been ten long years and Near had grown. He was aware of that. It was almost blatantly evident in his own reflection.

The young man had changed since the incident of Kira, Light Yagami. He had developed much in the image of L himself, long and lanky, and indeed, hunched; it seemed like all the years of sitting in a crouching form finally affected his figure.

The youngling lifted the doll and brought it to his bug eyes. He stared at the figure with such fixation it seemed as he would be complotting something against that inanimate figure. Not soon after though, the figure had fallen from Near's grasp, in the same intentions as the card had come down for. Time quickly came into the attention of the boy dressed in white, it usually did not bother him at all, but today had been particularly slow, strangely slow. Something was going to happen, and the thought brought a slight shiver down Near's back. He looked up to the clock in front of him, 4:35 and 23 seconds. Hmm, nothing out of the ordinary, but he was soon going to find out that he was wrong, awfully wrong.

Another second, and at that moment, a noise was made behind him. Near looked back and noticed the source of the sound was the only door to this room as it squeaked open. Behind this now revealing opening came in an old man. His face seemed worried, terrified; bad news, Near figured. As the man went all the way through, and closed the door behind him, he looked up at the young adult with his aged look.

"Near," the man suddenly said, in a tamed voice. The boy did not have to respond verbally. When he rose his eye ridge it was gestured well enough that he wanted to know what this aged man knew. "Kira is back."

The clock ticked overhead. Near was amazed time even passed in this moment of pure horror. How could it be? Did he go wrong? Or were his calculations at last, incorrect…?

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	2. Fukatsu

Black Curtains

Chapter 2: Fukatsu-

For Fukatsu, life had too many questions. As a young adult, growing up became something of a simple task, but with age, came knowledge, and with knowledge, loose ends. There were too many lies, too many open holes; everything seemed as a conspiracy.

The student would sometimes ask himself too much. He would wonder what would have happened, if history went a different course, if what happened were not so. What if Napoleon Bonaparte had not conquered France? Would the world value political freedom as it did? What would have happened, had Hitler succeeded? What if Jesus Christ would have not died? What if Pilot would have forgiven him, and put him in a safe haven away from the Israeli hands? Would he have still been known as much as he was now? Would the western religion still exist?

Or what if Kira would have not ceased to be?

Being eighteen, Fukatsu lived six long years under this 'god'; others would say a criminal. Ever since he was five, the boy's mother would tell him what a bad man Kira was, of all the wrong he did; Fukatsu never listened. He never saw all the ideological, all the political or theological contradictions this man had; he only saw a good guy getting rid of the bad guys. All in all, someone had to do it. The boy grew thinking this way, but quickly found it would be pointless to argue. Kira had been stopped. There was no need to speak of it anymore; it would be history, like Hitler and Caesar.

He would never forget him though. No matter what the circumstances were, he knew he could not. Kira had tried something that no other man dared to, even when it was almost certain it had crossed everyone's mind. It was that man that pulled through with it, and made the hand of justice, a true force.

But with that force, came tangibility.

Kira was dead. No matter what his fervent supporters said, Fukatsu would always think it so; he was nothing but mortal. He was a man, doomed to perish like a man. The true question was how he did what he did. How could one man kill without placing a single hand on the victim, or on the handle of a weapon? How could one man cause heart attacks, without leaving traces of using biological warfare, or poison? These were more questions for Fukatsu.

It was late afternoon, and his final classes were over. The young adult would walk out of the building for his afternoon classes, materials and bible at hand; his last class: Western Religion.

"See you later, Yoshi," One of the other boys waved, as he passed by the still him. Fukatsu smiled weakly in return.

"Yeah. See you." Fukatsu watched as the boy walked several more steps, before he stopped, and turned to look back at him.

"Wait, party still on tomorrow?" he asked. The young adult nodded, trying to keep a serious face. "Yeah, it still is." The other boy smiled.

"Good, bring the drinks. We're having lots of girls over this time." A sly smile appeared on that boy's face; it was sickening to Fukatsu.

"I will," Fukatsu responded in a serious tone.

"Alright, see you later then, Yoshida-kun," The boy waved as he left.

"Goodbye." Fukatsu turned, and began to head down the stairs of the school's exit, sickened by the sensation this last conversation left in him. He hated being in this group; small parties were half his life, every weekend he would have to suffer through another one. So full of excess, so full of sin, but he knew he could not give up on them.

There were two reasons why that was so. One, Fukatsu Yoshida had been brought up to the top of his class not only by his intelligence, but also from the social aspect of him. He was stuck to this, or he would lose power. With power, came the right to lead, with the right to lead, there could be justice. He knew justice would not fall immediately, but it would come.

The second reason Yoshida-kun kept in contact with this circle was to be the balance. In most of the parties, Fukatsu would be the one to regulate. He would not permit such coarse acts as when a fellow attempted to spike another companion's drink, or when someone went overboard with the alcohol and figured he could do anything. Yoshida-kun would be considered a party-pooper, in fact, if it wasn't for the fact that he smuggled the drinks and cigars each time. It was a balance, and he knew it was the only way it could be done.

As Fukatsu walked through the open grass area of the school, he eyed something. An object seemed to fall from the sky, black, like a bird falling after being struck by a child's stone. It hit the ground, but lay flatter than a normal animal would. As Yoshida gained curiosity of what hit the floor, he walked to the object, unsure what fell. The young adult looked to his flanks, but noticed no one else had spotted what he did. Everyone looked away; as if the thing had come from the sky when all but he weren't looking. It seemed like a coincidence, too much of a coincidence. Yoshida-kun finally arrived to what he had seen fall, and discovered, it was nothing, but a black colored notebook. Natural curiosity caused Fukatsu to lean down, and grab this small writing object. As he picked it up he looked at the cover, and it was labeled "The Book of Death." The young adult curled an eyebrow, and raised the other.

"Book of Death," he whispered out. Fukatsu opened the book to the first page. It was plain white paper, but on the first few lines, it read:

'_The rules of the game will be explained to you tonight, Fukatsu.'_

A terrible shiver suddenly rushed down his back, as if the hands of death got a grasp on him, and ran its cold fingers down his tangible body. _What the hell was this?_ How could a book suddenly fall from the sky, and then speak directly to him? Yoshida looked up to the sky, to discover from where the book could have fallen from, but nothing could do. No human being could have possibly projected this notebook, and then made it fall so far from any building around as it was now; it was just impossible. The young adult looked around one last time, before placing his sight back on the notebook.

_What game?_ He asked himself, feeling a tremendous horror, but amusement and curiosity at the same time. "Tonight," he suddenly repeated out loud. He looked at the words that where put in the first few lines once more, then closed the book, and placed it aside the bible he held. With his free hand, he reached for his cell phone, then speed dialed.

"Yoshi, You again? What's up?" he finally heard as the line picked up. It was the boy he had talked to earlier, before he had left.

"Tsubo, count me out of the plans, I can't come," Fukatsu said.

"Aww… come on, why not? What are you doing tonight then?" Tsubo asked.

"Studying."

"Man, too bad. You and your obsession with studying."

"I'm sorry; I'll try to make it next time."

"Alright, see you next Monday then." Click! and the phone was off. Yoshida-kun put the phone back on its place, and then looked up to the sky.

"Tonight then," he whispered, as he felt a strong breeze frisk his skin.

As Fukatsu ceased in looking upwards and walked away, a creature, skull faced and mischievous looking, cackled at the event, finding much fun from seeing this on the roof of the school building.

"Just like Light," he spoke in a deep tone. "At least, close enough."

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